Time Capsules – A prose poem
by Mandy Berry
I keep a pair of flash drives in my backpack, and I plugged them into my computer again this evening. They’re full of files, small writing pieces that form a registry of years of writing. Some of the pieces are from middle school, some are from freshman year, some are from seven months ago, and they’re all pretty easy to cringe at. It’s an interesting feeling, scanning through all those relics that might never see the light of day. They sure put a light in me, though, and I keep coming back to them like they’re some sort of lifeline, and I keep opening them and reading them and even editing them every once in a while.
But I don’t edit them too often. No. If I did that, they wouldn’t mean anything.
by S.A. Bowden
How sad it is, I thought as the trophies were lined up,
That we use
Wood and metal slabs
Plastic figurines on hollow tubes
To measure our worth
That we need these trinkets and another person’s approval
To believe we are good enough
by Sam Yoseph
We sit on the same couch,
Only a feet apart.
And yet it feels a lot farther,
And I’m standing in the dark.
There’s a lighthouse in the sea,
And I row my boat to you.
But as I make my way over,
I see that the light is turned off too.
While I wait here eating an apple,
You go to become one with the angels.
All I can really notice
Is how our life became entangled.
We’re falling into a replay,
Telling ourselves we’re fine.
But we’re in a long distance relationship
Because we don’t dare to cross the line.
We sit only a feet apart,
With our heart in our hands.
As our similar beats and similar brains
Are on very different lands.